The Gate
by computerneek
Summary: When a portal is opened between two otherwise disconnected worlds, a few reliable spells go a little crazy- and result in a series of letter-bearing owls passing through the portal. Several times. What could possibly go wrong?


"Um," one house elf mumbles, gazing up at the veritable mountain of parchment, ink, and wax.

Another house elf looks at a much smaller pile, off to the side, then back at the mountain. "This is going to be a busy year."

"How do you suppose we get them all sent?" A third asks.

"We don't have nearly that many owls," a fourth states.

"We'll have to do 'em in waves," a fifth observes.

"We'd better get started, then," a sixth states. "On the new acceptance ones first. That deadline's in only two weeks!"

"Right," a seventh nods. "The returning students have a whole month after that to get their stuff."

An eighth blinks. "How do you suppose the teachers will assist this many first years in a month and a half?"

A ninth shakes his head. "Donno, but that's not our business. We ought to be able to cut down on the number of waves- improve the timing of the deadline for the last set to receive- if we bunch the letters by household."

"Good idea," the first agrees. "We might even get them all out in time, too. Let's get to it."

The second nods, teleporting to the top of the stack to start working on it. "We alphabetizing by town, or- anyone know where Equestria is?"

Several heads shake.

"Well," he continues. "That's where a lot of these seem to be going. With town names in it, so… Oh, and it looks like most of those have street addresses like the Muggles. Makes that part easy, at least."

That ninth one chortles softly, as he and a few others also teleport closer to the pile to begin their sorting project. "You know, forget filtering a million and a half first-years through Diagon Alley in a month and a half- I'm wondering how they'll have time to teach them all."

The eighth chuckles too. "Yeah, but it's gonna be a good, busy year for us."

The third nods eagerly, ears flapping as he sorts letters with blinding speed. "Much more fun than the summer!"

* * *

"Shoo, bird. Trixie does not believe these stones need- Wait. Is that-? A stack of letters-? You have there?"

The massive bird nods its head, gesturing with its wing for her to take the letters.

She accepts them in her magic. "Trixie thanks you for the delivery," she states, flicking through the envelopes to read the names and addresses. She spots one with her name on it, raises an eyebrow, before ripping it open and scanning the missive.

The bird doesn't move, waiting patiently for something.

"Hog-warts?" she asks slowly. "Why would they call it that…? Whatever. This is excellent news! Though Trixie has no idea where this England is. And what do they mean, they await my owl…?"

The bird blinks slowly.

She looks at it, back at the letter, and back at it, before blinking twice. "Wait. Do they mean… Will you carry my answer back to this Hogwarts?"

It bobs its head in a nod.

"Excellent! Um-!" She pauses, glancing towards the building in the middle of the rock farm. "Do you mind waiting for Trixie to deliver the Pie's letters, and get their answers- they are the same, right?- before you leave?"

The owl gives a small hoot.

"Ahh, thank you! Trixie will be right back!"

* * *

His uncle's face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights, and didn't stop there, letter held high above his head. "P-Petunia?"

* * *

"Oh hi, what would you- Oh, is that mail?"

The bird on the sales counter drops the letters from its beak, giving a hoot.

"Okie dokie lokie! Let's see…" Pinkie had caught the letters the moment they were released, and had hers opened and in front of her seconds later. "Huh. I've got a funny feeling Twilight's gonna say yes, so that. But what will the Cakes say?" She vanishes for a minute then reappears, a single, new letter held in her hoof. "Alright, here's our answer- and would you like a treat before you go?" She offers an owl-sized cupcake in her other hoof.

"Hoo."

* * *

"There's another one!"

* * *

"Huh-? I didn't know you carried mail, Owlow- Wait. You're not Owlowiscious." She blinks at the owl. "Somepony have you carrying their mail?"

"Hoo."

Blink. "You know, I have no clue how, but I understood that. Um…" She turns her attention to the already opened letter. "Um…" She looks back up at the owl. "Do you know if Spike can come?"

"Hoo."

Facehoof. "Right. Spike? You've got mail!"

The named dragon's voice echoes down the passage, confused. "What? When did that happen?"

* * *

"You see, if they can't deliver them, they'll just give up!" His uncle spoke, while trying to hammer in a nail with a piece of fruitcake.

* * *

"What the hay-?"

The owl drops the two letters on the counter in front of it. "Hoo."

Blink, blink. "Uh, okay." A golden magic aura opens one of the letters, and she starts reading it, before looking up sharply. "Wait. You're from the other side of the portal, aren't you?"

The owl nods.

"Oh, that makes so much more sense. Uh, hey, Bonnie? We've got an invitation to a magic school on the other side!" She glances at the other letter. "I mean, that is similar, right?"

"Hoo."

"What do you mean, 'we'?" the answer calls. "You know I can't use magic."

"No, you misunderstand. They invited me, they invited you. Specifically. Yea or nay?"

* * *

Petunia shredded two dozen letters in her food processor.

* * *

"Well now, this is interesting. Hey, Lulu?"

"Mm?"

"Before you go, you might want to check your mail."

"Mail? I have mail?"

"Yep."

"Oh." She opens her letter, reads, and facehoofs. "Well, this is insulting. Somepony thinks I'm so far behind the times I need to go to magic school."

Chuckle. "You know, they've invited me too."

All traces of sleepiness disappear. "What?"

* * *

"Alright, that's it," his uncle declared, pulling tufts out of his mustache.

* * *

"Huh?" She leaves her sister's letter on her desk, and opens her own.

"Hoo?"

"She's in the bathroom. Um… What the hay is Hogwarts? Um…" She gallops to the door, opening it. "Gah! Oh, I was about to look for you!"

"Huh? Wait, did you two get letters from Hogwarts too?"

"Yep!"

"Yep! So, we saying yes, or no?"

Heads nod.

"Cutie Mark Crusaders Witches!"

* * *

"I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk."

* * *

"Wha-? I have mail? Delivered by owl? I'll have to admit, that's new."

"Hoo." The letter floats slowly away from the owl's beak.

"Right. Thank you." He takes the letter, dropping it into the blender on the side of his vanilla-pudding-filled hot tub. "Would you like a treat while you're here?"

"Hoo."

"Ahh, no biggie. Anyways." The letter finishes shredding itself despite the lack of a blade in the blender, which he then pours into a nice tall cup, which he swirls the purple drink with for a second before downing it in one gulp. Then he takes the fragments of the letter, mixes them with the drink, and consumes that as well. "Oh, I see. Yes, that'll be quite interesting." He draws a normal, but completely clean, letter out of the mud puddle next to his hot tub to hand it to the owl. "Here's my answer, thank you. Have a nice trip!"

* * *

"I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

* * *

A series of professors sits in stunned silence, staring at the veritable mountain of letters of varying shapes and sizes that the owls had just delivered to their table.

"It's… a good thing we already ate," Professor Sprout states.

Professor McGonagall draws her wand, and filters out letters with a quick spell, stacking them neatly into two floating stacks, then sighs. "This is going to be a busy year," she states.

Professor Snape raises an eyebrow at her. "What is it?"

She points at the first stack. "That is two hundred ninety-seven letters from new students accepting their place here," she states, then points at the second stack. "And that is six hundred thirty-seven letters turning down the same." She heaves a sigh, allowing her arm to fall back to the table. "And the letters only went out yesterday."

.

"Well," Professor Dumbledore nods. "We'd best get started, and make sure everyone can get their stuff in time." He sighs. "I'll go write a few letters to the proprietors of a few shops out in Diagon Alley- they might need to stock extra. Then I'll be back; with this many, we'll need as much help as we can get."


End file.
